Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Hands of Creation

ACT II - A Stubborn Ego

The Hall of Origin was made of pure, white, shining tile. Light shined from above, radiating off of tall ceilings. The light bounced off the walls and illuminated the floor. The passageways were so wide that an entire squad of Owens could march, wing to wing, and have room to spare. The ceilings were tall enough to even more flying far overhead. The hall led into a chamber at least four times as large. It was here that Arceus stood, staring at a great spherical projection in the air.

To the naked eye, nothing was happening. But to Arceus, he could see every event of the world through mortals' eyes. He couldn't focus on it all. He no longer had the power to do that—he lacked it for a very long time. Instead, he had his focus on one thing at a time. And right now, his attention was tuned to something that was not even a part of his own design...

The screen projection shifted until it was looking over Hot Spot Cave. It couldn't go much closer. He could only see blurry images of Owen and the others conversing with one another, looking through the eyes of the Pokémon inside. But their Mystic power made maintaining a connection too difficult. The projection suddenly fizzled out, going back into a great sphere of the world by default.

"Yo, Barky." In a flash of light, Star appeared and landed on his back. She was so small that his fur was like a field of white, tall grass. The Mew's tail flicked with an air of innocence, but the larger deity knew all too well that she was taunting him.

Barky growled. What an irritating imp.

"Still watching Owen, are you?"

Barky stared at the sphere. The projection expanded; its outer edges faded, and a thin view of Hot Spot Cave's interior came into focus, though Valle's eyes. He was particularly useful for how aware he was of the caverns and how weak his aura was. His eyes were always watching—irritably, Barky imagined—at the various motions in the cave. It showed everyone—aside from Anam and Nevren—sitting in the middle of the square. They seemed to be calming Demitri and Mispy down. But the vision was quite faded. The high concentration of divine energy between all of the Guardians made it difficult to observe them. Anywhere Anam was in particular made observation next to impossible.

"His aura stabilized," Barky said. And while Demitri and Mispy were distressed, they appeared to be in no danger of losing themselves to those old instincts. Rhys' plan worked. It took centuries... but it worked.

"Yep. Guess I won that bet after all, huh?"

Barky snorted. "I do not gamble. That is a mortal's vice."

"Being wrathful is a mortal's vice, and look where you are."

That one stung. Barky's left hoof scraped against the floor, leaving a hollow-sounding echo through the hall. Star, looking down at the hoof from atop his back, shook her head. He could never quite control his anger. Her tail flicked again. She tilted her head and arched her back, stretching every part of her body while lounging on top of him, even her little claws.

"What do you want?" Barky finally asked.

"Oh, nothing," Star said in a sing-song tone. "I'm just popping by." She twirled a lock of his fur between her tiny claws.

Barky didn't say anything in return. He went back to watching the mutated Charizard.

Star gently tugged at the fur, pulling off a few loose strands. "It's pretty impressive that science can create something that I couldn't." She looked at the blurry image of Owen and Gahi, "Look at them. Fused together into something that probably shouldn't even exist. I mean, by my standards, at least. But, y'know, I don't think I really mind that anymore. Owen's nice. And Gahi, I like his attitude. The two of them together is kinda the best of both worlds.

"Between Nevren's knowledge over genetics and Rhys' knowledge over the aura, they managed to make the perfect fighter out of four pieces. Aside from a few flaws. But... I'm glad he's finding himself. He didn't deserve that fate—none of them did."

Barky growled. "And yet, so many more have been created since then." He turned his head so his right eye stared directly at Star. The piercing, unblinking, green-red gaze made Star shrink, just slightly. "Are you proud of that?"

Star bit her lip.

If Barky had a mouth, he'd smirk with it, but he figured his eyes would say enough. He knew she hated when he was right. Sure, Owen and his team were under their own control. Independent, even if they were still a bit subservient to authority figures like Anam or Rhys and—in Owen's case—Amia. But the others? What of them? Would they be slaves to the remaining Hunters forever? Was that her fault? She probably wouldn't think so. She didn't have that kind of power, after all. The Hunters carried on after she made the mistake of trusting them. Now it was the mortals' turn to fix it, not her.

"They'll work it out," Star said. "I have faith in them."

Predictable. Barky scoffed. "Faith is for the lower creatures, not gods. We are their faith, Star. You cannot fall back on it as they do, for we are where it all ends. There is no higher authority."

Star's tail flicked irritably. Barky watched her tiny fist clench; she wanted to punch him in the back, but that would just show him her weakness. Go on, Star. Show it again.

Star relaxed, but her glare didn't subside. "You say faith is something for mortals to do, but so is bickering, but we've been doing that for the age of the universe. So, what then, huh?"

Barky had no response. He returned to watching the sphere.

Star huffed through her nose. Her toes clenched on the fur, prodding between two vertebrae on his spine. She kicked off and leaned forward, hanging her arms over part of the golden wheel attached to his back.

"Hey, Barky," Star said. "You know they're eventually going to gather them all. Someone is. And none of the Promises they made can keep that from happening. You can't wait it out. So..."

He waited, but Star didn't continue for a while. That must have been all that had to be said. And Arceus didn't have much to say back, either. He made his point. But he could tell that her talking with him just made her feel worse. Still, he had no idea what she was thinking; they couldn't read each other's minds. He'd like that, but she refused. And if she refused, then so would he.

Star cleared her throat again. "Barky..."

"Unless you plan to step down, I have nothing more to say."

After a few seconds to stare, she floated off of him. Arceus eyed her closely; he knew her for so long that it didn't take Owen's Perceive to know how she was feeling. Perhaps a heavy heart, but a stubborn attitude to deflect any guilt away from her. Maybe she wanted it to all be over. And, really, he wanted it to be the same. If only she listened to what he had to say. Was she thinking the same thing toward him? No, of course she was. Because she was a fixer. She had to help. And apparently she knew how it had to be done.

Arceus stared at those determined eyes of Mew. Fists clenched again, she spoke, "Once I have them all... you're done."

She disappeared as quickly as she came.

There was no wind in the Hall of Origin. Complete silence accompanied the tension Star left behind. The Creator broke it with a gentle tap on the ground. It echoed, on and on. Arceus wondered if he spoke too harshly toward her. Because she was right. He did get angry. But Star was no better. Star was too immature for that sort of power. She mingled with the spirits of mortals as if they were at her level. They simply weren't. Yet now, she behaved like one. And then, in the end, it always got her hurt.

"How did it come to this...?"

But he didn't like the answer.